


Everything Changes

by discothequey



Series: Survival Tactics [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discothequey/pseuds/discothequey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <i>Particles</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing Brian did when he woke to the sound of an incessantly screaming baby and Justin whispering, "Fucking God, please let me fucking sleep," was hold his breath. Then he let it all out until he was about to shrivel and choke and slapped his sleep-sweaty palms to his sleep-sweaty forehead.

It was his turn.

The digital alarm clock read 3:23 AM in a cherry red that killed his eyes, and he just wanted to further the pain by stabbing steak knives through his sockets as he pulled himself out of bed and made his way over to the [portable crib](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/Picture1-7.png) by the window.

"All right, all right," he mumbled, picking up the wiggling, red-faced little baby and holding him close. "I hear you, drama queen."

[James](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/collinpjs.jpg) was small and warm against Brian's bare chest, calm now that he was in someone's arms, and Brian lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the top of his mostly bald head.

He carried James across the hall to the nursery, made him a bottle and heated it up in the warmer, and then had a seat in the fluffy, monstrous thing of a brown armchair Justin had lugged home after work from God knows where.

James was hungry, his mouth puckering and tongue poking out in a sucking motion, and when Brian placed the bottle nipple between his lips, he immediately began to eat greedily, sucking so hard that each draw from the bottle made a squeaking sound.

Brian had to smirk at that, staring down at the little baby in his arms. James was exactly two weeks old and still looked fucking tiny. Like a piglet almost, sucking away on his bottle and breathing harshly out his nose to catch his breath. He had fine, white-blond hair in random patches on his head, and skin that, since birth, had changed from pink to a nice peachy color. Not extremely fair like Justin's, but still on the lighter side of the spectrum.

He was pretty -- the type of baby that strangers always called a "Beautiful little girl!" when they stopped Brian or Justin at the grocery store or in the take-out line at Chen's. Brian thought James was probably going to grow up to look like Justin except with bigger eyes and a small, pale brown birthmark on his left shoulder blade that looked like a slightly misshapen heart.

Brian gently poked his pinkie inside James's fist and smiled when the baby reflexively gripped the digit tightly. He had sharp little pinkish purple fingernails and soft skin that smelled like lavender scented lotion. Brian leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Once James was fed, changed, and back to sleep, Brian fumbled carefully through the dark and placed him once more in his portable crib before climbing in bed and throwing an arm around Justin's waist. Justin was hot and toasty, dressed in a navy blue T-shirt and gray gym shorts with no underwear underneath, and Brian pulled him against his chest and kissed the back of his neck where it was warmest.

"Fed him?" Justin mumbled, not completely conscious, before taking a deep breath and dropping off once more into black.

"Fed him," Brian answered, lips pressed against Justin's hair.

That happened no less than three times a night between eleven and seven, sometimes no less than four, and very rarely only twice. Most of the time Brian and Justin took turns, getting up and then passing back out again once James was soothed. But sometimes Brian couldn't fall back asleep and ended up working on his laptop in the dark or sneaking three cigarettes in the living room while he drank Scotch and watched late night television.

And waited for the cry.

But that night Brian was able to drift off again, though he was only awake once more at five-thirty to the bed shifting as Justin got up to pee and to make sure James was breathing. He lifted his head, looked around the bedroom, watched through the bathroom door as Justin pulled his cock from his shorts and began to piss, and then laid back down again and proceeded to pass out.

He had no idea how James wound up in bed with the two of them the next morning, but at about eight o'clock, when Brian's eyes opened for good, Justin whispered, "Don't roll over." Brian twisted around to see the baby lying on the duvet in the valley between his and Justin's bodies, looking up at nothingness, his dark gray-blue eyes moving around but not seeming to focus on anything in particular.

Justin was always doing that -- putting James in bed with them. Brian didn't really mind it usually, but sometimes...

"We're never going to have a normal sex life again, are we?" He asked, moving completely onto his side, facing Justin.

Justin cocked an eyebrow. "We never had a _normal_ sex life."

"We're never having sex again, are we?"

"He wanted me." Justin placed his palm on James's belly and rubbed gently. The baby moved his skinny little arms up, fists clenched, and then opened his mouth to yawn. Justin leaned in and touched their noses together, smiling at the feel and smell of the little puff of James's breath against his upper lip.

Brian scoffed but reached over to rub his thumb against the bottom of James's sock, then began to stroke his tiny toes through the cotton fabric. "He has no idea who you are."

"He _adores_ me."

"Because you wipe his ass."

"He still adores me." Justin shrugged and pressed a quick kiss to James's mouth before cutting his eyes to Brian and smiling sweetly -- that little, "You know what I mean," smile that was filled with the comfort of the basis of mutual understanding.

Brian shifted until his head was propped up on the heel of his hand and smiled back.

*****

It was the 24th of September, Gus's seventeenth birthday, and the lesbians had organized a birthday brunch of sorts at Chez Munchers in celebration.

They weren't supposed to be there until eleven, but Brian and Justin still had to roll out of bed at eight-thirty because it took three times as long to get going in the morning once a baby had been added to the mix. No more was there such thing as getting up, sharing a shower, throwing on clothes and leaving. Now there was getting up, Brian feeding, bathing, lotioning, and diapering James while Justin showered. Then, when Justin came out of the bathroom, tucking a towel around his waist, his body dripping water, Brian placed James in the center of the bed so he could stretch out, stripped, kissed Justin for thirty seconds, then went to shower. Justin pulled on underwear and a pair of jeans, dressed [James](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/one.jpg), dug a shirt out of the hamper, sniffed it, tugged it on, elbowed open the bathroom door, and attempted to do something with his hair until James started whimpering from the bedroom. He then told Brian to hurry the fuck up, shoved his fingers through his damp hair, slipped back into the bedroom to grab James, and walked around with him upstairs, singing ['All Together Now'](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-DrhOU_rDc) from _Yellow Submarine_ and praying he wouldn't break into one of his marathon cries.

Once everyone was ready to go and the items in James's [diaper bag](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/e6b4fa9d04070afa5a555919bc0eec73.jpg) were counted and restocked as necessary, Brian and Justin locked up and moved on to the car, knowing they were forgetting about a thousand things. Brian strapped James into his [car seat](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/Midori20KeyFit30_360.jpg), climbed behind the wheel and slammed the door.

It was ten forty-six. They were going to be late.

When they finally arrived at Lindsay and Mel's, Gus was sitting on the front steps with a hot pink plastic ruler shoved down the top of his turquoise cast, scratching his arm.

"Thank God you're effing _here_!" He hollered, removing the ruler and tossing it into the yard. He stood, brushed off the seat of his jeans, and jogged over to the car. "I'm about to rip off my own face. The women are going psycho about," he raised the pitch of his voice, "how grown up I am!"

Brian slammed the door of his Jag and reached out for Gus, tugging him against his chest and kissing the top of his head. "You won't have to worry about me thinking you're grown up," he said, giving his son a squeeze and then gently shoving him away. He smirked at Gus's unamused face.

"Happy birthday, Gus!" Justin said cheerily, walking around the car to retrieve James. "How's it feel to be seventeen?"

Gus shrugged. "How'd it feel when _you_ were seventeen?"

Brian and Justin made eyes at each other before breaking into silent laughter.

" _God_ , what now? Some perverted shit?"

Brian nodded. "Something like that."

Gus helped Brian and Justin lug in James's diaper bag and, quite happily, the black gift bag with silver and blue tissue paper exploding from the top. And once everyone was inside and Justin was being hugged and kissed to death by Lindsay and Melanie and Brian was pestering Jenny and raiding the liquor cabinet, Gus crouched down on the floor beside James's carrier and told him about how crazy his daddies were.

James wiggled his arms just a little and opened his mouth like a baby bird waiting for food.

"The kid loves me," Gus decided, leaning in to kiss the bridge of his brother's tiny nose.

Brian found brunch incredibly gross. Lindsay had cooked some lesbianegetarian tacos and some kind of fruit salad shit with bread in it, and as he picked at what was on his plate, he couldn't help but look around and wonder how the hell everyone was eating without puking. He grabbed his wine glass and downed the liquid in three gulps.

Halfway through, Gus spontaneously grabbed the gift bag off the floor by his chair and dumped it out onto the table like a four-year-old. He had his mouth full of meatless taco and a dab of salsa rested on his chin.

"Holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit," he chanted once he got a look at his gift, using his casted arm to shove his plate out of the way.

" _Language_ , Gus!" Mel and Lindsay scolded in unison, giving him that motherly death glare. Jenny giggled from where she sat beside Justin, chewing away on a chunk of cheddar cheese.

"It's a fucking... Sorry. It's a _bleeping_ iFlix! Are you kidding me? Oh my _God_!" Gus bounced in his seat, grabbing the box with his left hand and shaking it like a child on Christmas. "These things aren't even out yet!"

Brian shrugged, mouthing the lip of his wine glass. Kinnetik had connections with Apple. It had been relatively simple procuring the brand new digital video recorder.

"I can _so_ film all kinds of crazy junk with this," Gus spouted, grabbing a knife off the table and using it cut through the tape on the little white box. "And with one click it's on the Internet."

"Brian, what did you _do_?" Justin whispered, leaning his head against Brian's shoulder.

"No sex tapes 'til you're eighteen," Brian said, watching his teenage son rip through the plastic wrapping and pull out the recorder.

Melanie scoffed. "How about no sex tapes _ever_ , please."

After Gus had run down half the iFlix battery and had successfully acquired footage of everyone doing something they never wanted placed on the Internet -- perfect blackmail material -- Gus asked Brian how hard he thought it would be for "a person to get into, for example, NYU, if they, for example, wanted to go for something like, for example, film making. For example."

Jenny snorted. "Please. Gus couldn't get into NYU if he offered blood." She turned to her brother. "You've never made anything above a C in your life."

"Yes, I have!" Gus scrunched up his face.

"Oh, I forgot. You make A's in gym class."

"Yeah, and you make _B's_ in gym class 'cause you're so fat you can't run."

" _Shut up_!" Jenny screamed, kicking Gus's leg under the table. "You're such an a-hole."

"' _A-hole_?' Really?"

" _Hey_!" Melanie yelled, smacking her hand down on the table.

Lindsay offered some kind of punishment involving menial labor about which the kids simply rolled their eyes before telling each other to fuck off under their breath.

"Answer me, Dad," Gus said, reaching over to hold his hand over Jenny's mouth. Justin grabbed his hand and pulled it away from the girl. "Or if I'm too stupid for NYU, what about Carnegie Melon or something? You and Mom went there."

"You're _not_ stupid, Gus," Brian mumbled for what felt like the thousandth time in his life.

Gus widened his eyes. "Oh my God, I sense a 'but.'"

"You sensed wrong."

Lindsay cleared her throat. "Gus, don't you want to go to a state school? Or what about Pitt?"

"You guys think I'm _stupid_!" Gus yelled, looking around at the adults surrounding him.

Brian looked at him. "Shut up. No kid of mine is stupid."

"Oh my _God_ , you _all_ think I'm stupid." He stood.

"What the fuck's the point in talking to this kid?" Brian whispered to Justin, twisting his empty wine glass in his hand. "He's more dramatic than you were at his age."

"Gus," Justin said, voice firm. "Seriously. You're the coolest, smartest kid I know."

"The only other kids you know are Jenny and James." He screwed up his mouth and lowered his eyebrows.

"Gus."

" _Gus_."

"Gus."

"Gus, sweetheart..."

"Gus, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Told ya you were stupid!"

The voices all mixed together into one as Gus grabbed his iFlix and left the dining room. He walked toward the door to the porch and jerked it open.

"Is this actually happening?" Brian asked, grabbing the back of his neck with his hand and leaning his head backward. He stared up at the ceiling.

Melanie pushed back from the table and made to stand, but Brian simply sighed, shook his head, and said he was on it.

*****

Gus was back on the top step with his ruler when Brian stepped outside. He didn't say anything when Brian walked over and sat down beside him -- just scratched away at his arm with his face scrunched up. He looked ten. Brian sighed.

"You're a little drama queen," Brian told him in a low voice, turning a little so that he could see his face.

Gus shrugged. "Stuff just pisses me off."

"Yeah."

"And I really am for real stupid." The kid stretched out his long legs and crossed his feet at the ankles. His gray and black striped socks were showing.

"You're _not_ st--"

"Don't lie. I've never made an A in anything academic since sixth grade. And I only made a B _once_ , and that was because I cheated."

Brian snorted. "Do you think grades actually matter? Any dumbfuck can memorize shit and make straight A's."

"Gee, thanks, Dad." Gus rolled his eyes.

"I'm _saying_ that good grades don't equal smart and bad grades don't equal stupid." He shrugged.

"Colleges want good grades."

"Colleges want money."

"So you think I could get into NYU?"

Brian reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a slightly flattened pack of cigarettes. " _I_ couldn't get into NYU."

Gus's jaw dropped. He grinned. "Really?"

"Tell anybody and you're dead meat."

"That's funny."

"It's _not_ funny."

"So should I try?"

Brian turned to his son, looked into his eyes, and nodded once. "Knock yourself out. Apply other places, too, though." He snorted. "Far the fuck away from this 'burg."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"Maybe." Brian smiled, then shook his head, remembering something. "Seventeen-year-olds are all the same." He shoved his unlit cigarette between his lips and tugged out his lighter.

"Can I have one?" Gus asked, pulling the ruler from his cast and setting it on the step beside him.

Brian shrugged and lit his cigarette. He took it from his own lips and held it out for Gus. "Ever smoked before?"

Gus gave him a look. "Duh." He grabbed the cigarette and took a quick puff. Then proceeded to cough.

"Uh huh, sure," Brian murmured, sliding another cigarette out of his pack. "You shouldn't lie."

"Why not?"

Brian shrugged. "You don't have to lie to me."

Gus smiled at his father and leaned his head against his shoulder for a brief moment.

He smoked his very first cigarette in silence.

*****

Brian, Justin, and a sleeping James left Chez Munchers at a quarter after one and drove to the grocery store to pick up a few things. As they pulled into the parking lot and crept into a tiny space by the entrance, Justin said, turning to Brian with an all-knowing look on his face, "You know, you and Gus should hang out more often. Like, father-son day once a week or something."

Brian snorted, turning off the car and lifting up to shove the keys into the pocket of his pants. "You are entirely too much of a WASP. What, are we suddenly Ward and the Beave?"

"Oh, shut up. You know what I mean."

Brian sighed. "I don't know."

"Think about it." Justin leaned over the armrest and kissed Brian's cheek. "You're an amazing father. And I think Gus needs a little...guidance right now. You're good for him."

" _Good_ for him?"

"Good for him. You two get each other."

Brian shrugged and opened the car door. "Maybe," he said as he walked around the vehicle to grab James's carrier from the back seat.

"Maybe what?"

"Dunno."

They made their way into the grocery store in silence.

Inside was pleasantly devoid of any large crowds since it was Sunday in a conservative neighborhood. Brian sat James's carrier in a shopping cart and Justin took over from there, pushing because Brian outright refused.

They picked up the essentials -- lube, toilet paper, bread, cereal -- and then Justin sent Brian off to get nursery water at the opposite side of the store while he took James into the baby aisle.

And he was just standing there at the end of the aisle, scanning the shelves for Similac Advance, when he heard someone behind him clear his or her throat. Justin licked his lips and turned, expecting it to just be a parent wanting him to move out of the way, but when he saw who it was, he froze. His stomach cramped. His heart stopped.

Justin simply stared when Craig Taylor nodded at him. He stared at his father's receding hairline, his heavily starched dress shirt, the way his lips were pressed together until they were a pale, bloodless pink; stared at the shopping basket in his hand, filled with canned vegetables and bottled water.

"Justin," Craig greeted in a tight voice, giving him a weak smile before turning toward the shopping cart. He walked up to James's carrier and peered in, looking down at the beautiful, sleeping baby without expression. "Looks like you," he said quietly, shoving a hand in the pocket of his slacks and seemingly grabbing at his wallet, his car keys, just fistfuls of something out of nervousness. "He's handsome."

"Yeah," Justin said, the first thing he said. He nodded his head a little and reached out absently to hook his index finger onto the side of the shopping cart.

"He's doing well?"

"He's fine."

Craig nodded, eyes traveling downward to focus on his dark brown dress shoes.

Justin licked at his bottom lip and said through practically closed lips, "How's everything with you?"

"Great." Craig adjusted the shopping basket until it was hanging at his elbow. "You're still...?"

Justin raised an eyebrow, waiting. He felt his heart wait, too. It seemed to freeze in place, holding its breath. Justin thought he was really fucking stupid for being so... Being so...

He looked at his son's tiny ears, the ones that were unmistakably Craig's, then turned to his father and looked into his eyes. He hated himself a little.

Craig shifted and poised his mouth in that way he always did whenever he was about to say something he didn't want the general public to hear.

(Over the past seventeen years, Justin had learned that in the moments following that mouth poise, there was the possibility of one of three things coming from Craig's mouth: 1) Country club gossip, 2) A discussion of money and how much or how little a person had, or 3) Something about homosexuality -- specifically Justin's homosexuality.)

Justin swallowed.

Turns out, he didn't have to wait or worry much longer, for the moment Craig opened his mouth to ask Justin if he was "still with that Brian guy," that Brian guy appeared from around the corner, holding up two jugs of nursery water and saying, "This better be the shit you wanted."

Justin's cheeks colored out of nervousness and he nodded, looking from Brian to his dad, his dad to Brian.

Brian caught on a second later, right after he'd done two curls with the jugs of water. He dropped his arms to his sides and stared at Craig Taylor with murderous eyes. "What the fuck?"

He looked over at James, who was still asleep, and moved over to stand in front of him, nonchalantly blocking him from Craig's view.

"I was just..." Craig began, once again shifting his shopping basket.

"Just leaving?"

Craig's face flamed up for a split second, eyes flashing like he wanted to attack, but just as soon as the look came, it left. Craig bounced his eyebrows once, slid his gaze back and forth between Justin and Brian, and, with an almost curt nod of goodbye, walked away.

Justin watched him go.

*****

As Brian and Justin were checking out, placing their purchases on the counter, Brian kept giving Justin that little, "What comes next?" look. And each time, Justin shrugged it off.

"I don't want to talk about it," he finally said, pushing the shopping cart forward and looking down into James's face, watching as the baby scrunched up his nose and eyes, opened his mouth for a moment, and then woke.

James had no idea what had just happened.

*****

Three days later, Brian picked Gus up from school and took him to the park.

He'd thought the father-son day idea was completely idiotic at first, but sometimes things happened that made him remember his relationship with his own father, and that kind of made him want to be a little...better. It was like having cancer again, those memories. If you could just make it through, if you could just forget, you'd promise you'd make some changes.

So he'd picked Gus up from school on Wednesday, and the two of them had dug the soccer ball out of the trunk of the car and had gone to the park.

It was a windy day, warm but with a cooler breeze, and Brian and Gus spent about an hour walking around, Gus dribbling the soccer ball and showing off his knee-juggling skills while Brian made fun of him for being a huge dork.

Brian smoked a cigarette and let Gus take a puff, but this time he wouldn't give him his own. He told him he was too young and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

When they reached a cigarette receptacle by the giant oak tree in the center of the park, the two of them stalled while Brian finished smoking. And they were there, Gus leaned back against the tree, telling Brian about how "effing bad" it sucked to be benched while his arm was healing since he was "clearly the best player," when Kaylie Olson showed up.

She was tall, brunette, tan, sweaty from running and had on a yellow sports bra and black jogging pants. Her nipples were poking through the spandex fabric of her bra. Gus stared without shame.

"What are you doing here?" He asked happily, pushing off the tree and practically skipping over to her.

It was then that Brian had to witness for the first time his son kissing a girl. He found it strangely awkward, but he watched anyway, taking one last pull on his cigarette while Gus pushed his nose against Kaylie's and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

The teenagers talked for a while, kissed twice more, and then Kaylie said she needed to go finish her workout. Gus panted. He wrapped his arm around her waist, splayed his hand flat against her sweaty lower back, and kissed her neck.

Brian wanted to hurl.

"Isn't she totally hot?" Gus asked the second Kaylie was out of earshot. He picked up his soccer ball and tossed it high in the air.

Brian caught the ball and nodded, because yeah, she was. "But isn't she the one who did this?" He tapped Gus's cast with his index finger.

"So she's a shitty driver..." Gus shrugged. "But she's really, really hot, she gives good head, she waxes _down there_ , and it's like..." He broke into a grin. "Amazing."

Brian stared at his son.

" _What_?" Gus laughed. He grabbed the soccer ball from his father's arms and dropped it onto the sidewalk, before beginning a slow dribble. "And I love her, you know?"

"What do _you_ know about love?" Brian asked, genuinely curious.

"What do you?" Gus stuck out his tongue and shoved a hand into the pocket of his light jacket. He shrugged a little. "I just love her. It's hard to explain."

Brian nodded slowly.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Hm?"

Gus placed his foot on top of the soccer ball, stilling it, and asked, "When'd you know?"

"Know what?"

"That Justin was..."

Brian rolled his eyes. If his son said, "the one," he was going to vomit.

Gus took a deep breath and rephrased his question. "When'd you know you loved him like _that_?"

Answering that question was easier than Brian had ever imagined it would be.

He bit his lip for a second, turned to his kid and said completely calmly, "When I couldn't deny it any longer."

*****

When Brian arrived home that evening, a styrofoam take-out cup of some kind of iced Chinese tea in one hand and his briefcase in the other, he found Justin and Daphne in the kitchen, eating from a pan of freshly baked brownies with their fingers and laughing hysterically.

"What the fuck are you kiddies doing?" He asked, dropping off his briefcase and tea on the countertop and moving over to greet James, who was lying in his little portable bassinet, half asleep. Brian picked him up and cradled him against his chest. He kissed his nose.

"Mm," Justin responded, mouth full of brownie, before looking at Daphne and breaking once more into maniacal laughter.

"You two _do_ know you aren't setting a very good example, baking pot brownies in front of an infant," Brian joked, nodding his head at James.

"Oh my God, I _wish_ these were pot brownies," Daphne said as she sucked chocolate off her thumb.

Justin snorted. "Daph was just telling me about Frankie stealing her vibrator and using it as a submarine in the bathtub."

Brian raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "I swear you two are still seventeen."

"It's _funny_."

"If you're high."

"We're not high."

Daphne sighed. "But we wish we were."

Brian chuckled quietly as he had a seat at the bar stool.

*****

"I better get going," Daphne said about ten minutes later, shaking her freshly washed hands in the air and sending sprinkles of water all over the kitchen. "Gotta pick Frankenstein up from ballet."

Justin walked up to her and gave her a quick hug. "Speaking of Frankenstein... Halloween party next month. Here. Bring the kids."

"God, don't remind me of fucking Halloween." She poked out her bottom lip and blew her breath up into her face. "I would rather die than take Francesca Grace Hyatt, drama queen extraordinaire, costume shopping."

Justin laughed at her and patted her shoulder.

After Daphne was gone, Justin walked over to the half-eaten pan of brownies and grabbed a glob, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking it off his fingers. He pulled out the bar stool next to Brian's and sat down beside him and the now-sleeping James.

"So how'd Father-Son Day Numero Uno go?" He asked with his mouth full, leaning in close and breathing out chocolatey breath into Brian's face.

"It went."

"Good?"

Brian shifted James in his arms and shrugged.

Justin raised an eyebrow, not buying Brian's nonchalant attitude, and, seeming to decide on something, leaned in and kissed Brian's mouth with chocolate-stained lips.

"Mm," Brian hummed, moving in further, opening his mouth some and tasting the sugary-sweetness of Justin's tongue and spit.

As they began to really get into it, Justin reaching out and grasping the sides of Brian's face, turning his head from side to side as they kissed, James suddenly made a noise in his sleep, a squeaky little "Aah," his eyelids fluttering as if he were dreaming.

Justin pulled away and smiled brilliantly, looking down at his son with love in his eyes. "You want a kiss, too?" He whispered, leaning down and, puckering his lips, pecking James's mouth.

James scrunched up his tiny face, causing Brian and Justin to chuckle a little.

And once he was settled again, Brian stood and walked him back over to his bassinet, gently placing him there on top of a green blanket.

"Wanna take our chances?" Justin asked with a smirk from where he was perched on the bar stool.

Brian cocked an eyebrow as if to ask, "What do you think?" and within a matter of moments, the two of them were kissing again.

Brian had the still-seated Justin pressed back against the countertop as he kissed him; as he wound his arms around him and sucked his mouth, his jaw, his neck. Soft, slow, sucking kisses -- the kind that left hickeys and the kind that caused Justin to leave nail marks on Brian's shoulders.

They eventually made it against the refrigerator, where they fucked gently, one of Justin's legs wrapped around Brian's waist and the other lifting up an inch off the ground with every thrust.

It was good, it was hot, and when they came, they came quietly, sweating and kissing and loving.

" _Christ_ ," Justin whispered afterward, winding his arms around Brian's neck and breathing loudly, through laughter.

Brian let out a little moan.

"What're we gonna do in a few months when we can no longer..." He took a deep breath. "...do it in front of James?"

Brian kissed Justin's neck and whispered, "Hire a nanny."

Justin snorted. "I don't think that would make us very good daddies," he joked.

Brian rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I think the two of us know enough about shitty fathers."

The moment he said it, he regretted it.

Justin nodded his head, sighed a little, and moved out from where he was sandwiched between the fridge and Brian. He moved over to the sink, cleaned up, and then, still half-naked, grabbed a beer.

"Fuck your father," Brian murmured, ripping a paper towel off the roll and wiping up smears of Justin's cum off his stomach.

Justin shook his head and, in an irritated voice, said, "The fact that you even brought up the shitty father thing shows you haven't exactly fucked yours."

Brian bit at his lips and zipped up.

They still hadn't talked about Craig. Justin never wanted to, and honestly, neither did Brian. But Brian knew that the fact that Justin _wasn't_ talking about it meant that it was eating at him.

Slowly but surely.


	2. Chapter 2

On the twelfth of October, the day James Dean turned one month old, Justin insisted that the family go out for a celebratory dinner at Godfather's, Pittsburgh's newest Italian restaurant.

"What have I always told you about celebrations?" Brian groaned that morning as he rubbed a dollop of thirty dollar baby lotion into the skin of James's chest and belly.

"'You celebrate achievement,'" Justin mimicked in a high-pitched voice, changing the plastic bag in the nursery's diaper dispenser. "But whatever, you retired that about ten years ago."

"I didn't retire anything."

"Oh, you have no idea how many things you've retired."

Brian scoffed. "Name something."

"You haven't fucked around in eleven years, we haven't used condoms in eight, and by the way, we have a kid." Justin smiled, self-satisfied. "We have a kid who turns one month old today, for which we are going out for dinner tonight at seven. I'll make reservations."

He fastened the plastic bag in place, closed the top of the diaper dispenser, and left the room.

Brian swallowed.

Needless to say, the three ended up seated at table 7D at Godfather's that night, Brian and Justin sharing a gigantic family style plate of various pastas and [James](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/two.jpg) staring up at his new obsession: lights. He didn't even blink -- just stared for what seemed like forever and moved his tongue in and out of his mouth in that little sucking motion he did incessantly.

"Get the kid some sunglasses," Brian said, spearing a piece of ravioli on his fork. "He'll go blind."

Justin _mmm_ ed through a mouthful of spaghetti. "While sunglasses would probably be really fucking cute..." He reached over and pulled down the shade on James's carrier. "What do you think? Up or down? Do you think the lights could really make him blind?"

Brian raised an eyebrow.

"You were joking." Justin swallowed his spaghetti and rolled his eyes. "Har har." He pushed the shade back up, once more allowing James full view of the chandelier.

"You're a nervous wreck."

Justin took a sip of his wine and kicked Brian's ankle under the table. "Taking him out in public freaks me out."

"Nervous wreck."

"Okay, whatever."

Brian smirked at Justin. He watched the way Justin's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his wine, and he very seriously wanted to push him into the bathroom and fuck him standing. But then he looked over at the tiny baby in the carrier beside him and knew that would be impossible. Unless, of course, they paid a waiter to watch James for ten minutes, but Brian was fairly confident that Justin, most unfortunately, would not go for that. The man was having enough trouble functioning normally as James made his first non-Diner restaurant debut.

Justin took another bite of spaghetti and looked at James, who wiggled his legs some, did this cute little thing with his lips, and swallowed. Justin grinned.

"God, he's cute," he noted with his mouth full. He reached out and stroked James's barely-there eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. "Who do you think he looks like?"

Brian twisted his fingers around the stem of his wine glass. "You're wanting me to say he looks like you, right?"

Justin smiled. "I'm just _asking_." He swallowed his spaghetti and made a silly face at James, who stared at him completely expressionless. "Jesus, I can't wait 'til you can talk," he whispered, rubbing the baby's stomach with his index finger.

Having a newborn was strange. James was an incredibly attractive baby who didn't cry all _that_ much, and who ate well, had only pissed in someone's face once so far, and had bowels like clockwork. He woke up a thousand times a night, but that was to be expected.

He was great.

Only, he didn't _do_ anything; just slept or laid around staring at light fixtures. Brian and Justin played with him, talked to him, held him all the time, but he was too young to actually respond in any way other than looking at them and doing his tongue thing.

"Did you talk a lot when you were a kid?" Brian asked with an eyebrow raised as he pushed food around in his plate.

Justin chuckled under his breath, knowing what Brian was getting at. "Probably. And I was a bit of a smartass."

"Imagine that."

Justin stood from the table and leaned over to briefly kiss Brian's mouth, his lips upturned in an infectious smile. "Gotta pee. Be right back."

When Justin walked off, Brian was shaking his head, biting back something...happy.

Soon after, James began to fuss a little -- started making those little grunting sounds that were usually prelude to a cry -- and Brian set down his wine glass and twisted in his chair to soothe him.

"Shhh," he whispered, picking up James's Soothie pacifier from where it rested in the carrier and gently pressing it between the baby's lips. He tapped his finger softly against the pacifier in a calming, rhythmic motion, and, with his other hand, stroked the top of James's head.

James sucked away and the frustrated pinkness began to fade from his face.

Brian was good at that for some reason -- soothing him. He found it completely against what he perceived to be his nature.

He was leaned over, talking to James in a quiet, barely audible voice, when he suddenly heard someone call his name.

"Brian?" It was a woman.

He sat up straight and, Jesus fucking Christ, looked right up at Claire. She was standing there in a pink sweater and khakis that didn't exactly flatter her figure, and her hair held a loose perm. She'd gained weight since Brian had last seen her, but she looked better. Classier, almost.

Brian raised his eyebrows. It was then that he noticed Peter, now in his early twenties, standing behind her, holding hands with a pretty girl in a black dress.

Figuring he should say something, Brian cleared his throat and asked, voice strained, "What brings you to this...high class establishment?" He had to ask.

Claire narrowed her eyes and placed a hand on her hip. "Peter -- your _nephew_ , in case you've forgotten -- got engaged yesterday." She smiled tightly, turning to her son and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We're celebrating."

"Ah," Brian murmured, looking toward Peter, who had really grown into a good looking guy, if only because he looked as if he could have been one of Brian's kids. "Congratulations." It sounded pleasantly false.

Peter awkwardly nodded his thanks and then began pulling his fiancée's hand, leading her away from what he knew would likely become a scene of some sort.

"Whose baby?" Claire asked, taking a step forward and peering into the carrier. James was beginning to drift. She noted his patches of blond hair and looked back up at Brian. "Justin's...nephew?"

"Justin's son."

" _Justin's_ son."

"Mine and Justin's." Brian shrugged, turning his eyes away from Claire and watching James's face as he began to drop off into sleep.

Justin came back from the bathroom then, wiping his wet hands off on his pants. He froze when he reached the table and saw the woman standing there, looking at his son.

"Does Mom know?" Claire was asking as Justin took a seat.

Brian shook his head. "It's none of her fucking business."

"You mean you're raising a son and you haven't told Mom?"

"Well, it went _so_ spectacularly well when she found out about Gus." Brian pulled the shade down on James's carrier and sat up straight. "How he's being raised by two...abominations."

Claire made a face and shook her head. "You know that isn't true. She has Gus's school picture on her mantle, and--"

"Mom's never shown interest in doing a fucking _thing_ with Gus besides wanting to convert him and take him to mass." He sighed and looked over at Justin, whose eyes were wide. "And besides. Gus, like the general population, thinks she's a cunt, so..."

"Brian, how can you even say that?"

"How can you _not_?" He grabbed the bottle of wine from the center of the table and emptied it into his glass.

Justin watched as Brian and Claire carried on for a good five minutes. Something about it made his stomach sick.

He didn't necessarily hate Claire, because he knew Brian didn't necessarily hate her; he knew that Claire and Brian had a background he would never understand -- a background based on surviving together. But she always gave Justin a bad taste in his mouth. She was like an omen, a bad omen, and a sign of things to come. A sign of drama to ensue and shit to be rehashed.

"If you don't tell Mom, I will," she said to Brian, crossing her arms over her chest. "She _deserves_ to know."

"Claire, don't you fucking dare." Brian's voice was tired.

The woman watched his face for a moment and then walked off to join Peter and his fiancée at the table across the room.

Justin wanted to vomit.

When the wine was gone and the waiter came back, Brian asked for water and shoved his plate out of the way.

"Your mom's not going to want to see James, is she?" Justin asked cautiously, reaching across the table and taking hold of the tips of Brian's fingers.

Brian made a face, like, "Are you kidding me?" and shook his head. "Trust me. That's not something you ever need to worry about."

*****

On one of their 'father-son outings' a few days later, Brian told Gus about the latest parental drama that had occurred over the past month. He didn't know why he did it other than because of the fact that he and Gus were eating peach frozen yogurt and Moose Tracks ice cream (respectively) at Lucky's, and it was relaxed and quiet. Brian also kind of liked hearing Gus bitch people out, and Joan Kinney and Craig Taylor were two of the kid's particular favorites to bash, so that probably had something to do with it, too.

It was warm for mid-October, around seventy degrees, and Brian and Gus were sitting out on the patio with the sun in their faces.

"Oh God, eeew, I would never let either of those scumbags see James," Gus said, digging a gigantic chunk of fudge from his cup of ice cream and shoving it in his mouth. "Never fucking ever."

Brian nodded in agreement and tossed his frozen yogurt into a nearby trash bin. It tasted like shit. "Justin's dad might put up a fight, but if Saint Joan Kinney's one thing, it's not interested in being a good fucking...grandmother."

"Or mother. Or human being. Or teeth-brusher 'cause gross, her breath always smells like booze and onions." Gus sighed, reaching up to wipe chocolate out of the corners of his mouth with his thumb and index finger. "Want me to egg their houses? I totally will. Shrink-wrap their cars?"

"Get arrested?"

Gus rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You have _no idea_ how much crap like that I've done. Never been arrested."

"Yet."

"Would Justin's dad call the cops?"

"He had his own son arrested."

"Oh." Gus shrugged. "I'd still do it, though. It'd be worth the time."

Brian snorted and kicked Gus's leg under the table. "Speaking of doing incredibly tedious time, you wanted me to do...what the fuck?"

"You and Justin. Pick me up from the fair Saturday night. Me and Kaylie are gonna be makin' out on the ferris wheel and I need a ride home." He made a face. "I'm not allowed to ride with Kaylie after dark anymore, and...my car's kinda..."

"Let me guess. You got your keys taken away."

"I accidentally called Mama a bitch."

Brian laughed breathily out his nose. "Neither an accident nor a lie."

Gus grinned.

*****

Meanwhile, Justin and [James](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/Untitled-3.jpg) were over at Jennifer's, making plans for her to start keeping James every weekday while Brian and Justin were at work. For the most part, the plans were that Brian would drop James off at nine every morning, and Justin would pick him up at three in the afternoon except for on Tuesdays when he taught art at the gallery, in which case Brian would pick James up after work.

Thank God for Jennifer's retirement age and James's birth happening to coincide.

"How's my sweet boy been?" Jennifer asked, cradling tiny James in her arms and leaning down to pepper kisses all over his face.

Justin grabbed a water from the fridge and unscrewed the cap. "Good. He's more alert now, I think. Can you tell?"

Jennifer nodded, moving over to have a seat on the couch. She rested James vertically on her lap and began to rub at his belly. He yawned. "He'll only get more and more alert from here on out."

"I'm just waiting for him to...do something." Justin laughed, crossing out of the kitchen and into the living room area. He sat down beside his mother.

"In six months, he'll be crawling around the house and getting into things." Jennifer smiled at her son. "Cherish this time while you can."

"Noted." Justin reached over and held one of James's hands. He bit his lip and looked at his mom's face. "So we saw Brian's sister Claire at Godfather's the other night," he began, not exactly sure where he was going. He ended up telling Jennifer the whole story while he stroked the top of James's tiny, soft hand with his thumb.

"Is it...shitty of me to not want any of Brian's family, or...I dunno, _Dad_ to see James? Like, at all?" He bit his lip.

Jennifer's eyes softened. She shook her head. "Of course not, sweetheart." She shrugged. "James's yours. You choose who gets to be a part of his life."

Justin took a deep breath and nodded.

The two of them left Jennifer's/Grammy's house half an hour later and picked up Chinese from Chen's. When they arrived home, Brian was just coming down the staircase from upstairs after having changed into jeans and a T-shirt.

"Hey," Justin greeted, setting James's carrier on the floor and moving over to Brian. He placed his hands on either side of Brian's face and kissed his lips softly.

"Mm, hey," Brian replied, getting his hands around Justin's waist for a brief embrace.

They parted, and Brian crossed the foyer to see James. As he unfastened the baby from his carrier and pulled him into his arms, he said, "Just so you know, Gus offered to egg your father's house."

Justin raised an eyebrow. "You talked about that with _Gus_?" He was flabbergasted, frankly.

Brian shrugged a little and, in a quiet, sweet-for-James voice as he bent until he was right in the baby's face, said, "It just came up."

Justin snorted. He walked around behind Brian, wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed the base of his neck. "Let Gus know that he may be of use later on."

"You can tell him." Brian leaned his head to the right, exposing the side of his neck for Justin to kiss. "We're picking him up from the fair Saturday night, apparently."

"Ugh. I'd rather be tortured and killed than attend the fair." Justin bit gently at Brian's skin. "I have to be there, anyway. Astrid, my terrible secretary/student/biggest fan, has a few pieces in a showcase."

"Does that mean you need someone to stay home and keep James?"

"That means you and James will most definitely be coming with. If I have to suffer, so do you." Justin pressed a loud, smack of a kiss to Brian's now-spitty neck and palmed his ass through his jeans.

They unpacked their Chinese food in the kitchen, ate chicken and chow mein and drank beer, and then the three of them retired to the living room.

Brian placed the sleeping James in the portable bassinet and stretched out on the couch with Justin. It was rare that they had a chance to do this anymore -- to lie on the couch with each other; to leisurely kiss; to have slow, intimate sex.

Justin was dressed in about a thousand layers of clothing, from his sweater vest to his undershirt, but Brian had fun sliding each article off of him, kissing each bit of skin he uncovered. When he pulled off Justin's sweater vest and button-down shirt, leaving him in a black wifebeater, Brian kissed Justin's shoulders, his chest, the undersides of his arms. When his wifebeater came off Brian kissed down Justin's chest, sucked on his nipples, licked across his navel. When the jeans came off, Brian kissed along the waistband of Justin's boxer briefs, then pulled the front down and took Justin's cock in his mouth, sucking, licking, tasting. Slowly.

They kissed and touched for what felt like hours plus minutes plus seconds, and then Brian was pushing into Justin with only lube reducing the friction of their bare skin. Justin got his legs up around Brian's waist and sighed.

They rocked together quietly, Justin's hands in Brian's hair, his palms against the back of his head, pressing their hot, wet mouths together. They rocked together for a long time, only breaking rhythm when Justin leaned his head back and exhaled loudly, causing Brian to almost lose it right there; lose it to the sight of Justin's eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, to the sound of pre-orgasmic air rushing from his lungs.

It was almost hotter when they needed to be quiet.

Justin slid his legs from Brian's waist down to his ass, using his feet to pull him in closer, wanting him inside, every single inch, every millimeter of him. It was so wet, and Brian knew that they were about to stain the couch cushions. He didn't care.

He closed his eyes, kissed Justin within an inch of his life, and thrust in, in, in.

Justin came first, whispering in Brian's ear that he was coming, he was coming, and then he didn't have to whisper anymore because Brian felt it; felt the contractions around his cock, the shudders from Justin's head to his toes, the warm wetness that was suddenly smearing between their stomachs.

After that, it didn't take long for Brian to finish. He thrust twice more, then again, again, and buried his mouth in Justin's neck, opening wide and just sucking any bit of sweaty skin he could find as he came hard, shaking and still thrusting, erupting inside Justin.

They kissed for a while afterward -- quick, pecks of kisses on the mouth and neck as they caught their breath -- and then Brian traveled down Justin's body and cleaned him up with his tongue. He cleaned the streaks off his belly, the whitish wetness off the tip of his pink cock, and he licked up the cum sliding out of Justin's ass before it had a chance to drip onto the couch cushions.

Brian decided that it was impossible for anything to be better.

*****

Saturday night, [Gus](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/gus1.jpg) and Kaylie went to the Allegheny County Autumnal Fair. Gus thought he looked totally hot in his stripes, he was totally pumped for the fair, and when Kaylie laughed and told him he looked like Waldo, he just kissed her cherry lip-balmed lips and grabbed her hand.

Gus loved the fair. He'd gone every single year of his life, save for the three spent in Canada when he was in elementary school, and it just felt...home to him. He told his dad once when he was nine that he wanted to work at the fair when he grew up, and Brian told him, like he always did, to "go for it." He loved his father.

One of Gus's favorite things about the fair was how the guys that worked at the game booths always smoked cigarettes, looked like they just got out of jail the day before, and lied about how easy it was to win a prize. He liked it because they always went easy on him because he weighed like, 125 pounds, cussed a lot, and was a shitty thrower. He usually won prizes he didn't deserve.

That night, Gus pulled Kaylie over to the booth where you had to knock down cans with a wiffle ball. He kind of wanted to win Kaylie a teddy bear or something, so he paid his three dollars.

He tossed the ball a total of six times before he actually knocked anything down.

The person manning the game was one of Gus's classmates. He didn't smoke and he didn't look like he just got out of jail. He laughed at Gus and pointed him in the direction of the children's version of the game, before winking at Kaylie suggestively. No prize.

Gus took Kaylie's hand and the two of them went to buy hot dogs.

After eating and chugging down both his lemonade and half of Kaylie's, Gus got up to throw their trash away and ran into Brian, Justin, and [James](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/collin.jpg) by the Evil Eye. Justin was crouched down in front of James's stroller, checking the freshness of his diaper, and Brian was staring at Gus with his eyebrow raised.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" He asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket as Gus approached them.

"If you call me 'Waldo,' I'll punch you."

"Justin, where's Wald-- I mean, Gus?"

Justin stood and laughed. "Gus, did you forget your hat and glasses?"

"Fuck both of you." Gus held up both middle fingers. "I look hot."

Justin looked over at the picnic table by the hot dog stand and stepped closer to Gus. "Your girlfriend's pretty."

"She's waiting on me. I've got to win her something. Fucking punk-ass Sam King was working at the booth I just went to, and lemme tell you, I am made of effing fail at knocking over cans." Gus sighed. "Total humiliation."

Brian rolled his eyes. "How old are you? Go screw your girlfriend in the fun house and buy her a goldfish."

"No, see, I have to _win_ her something. It'll make me all manly and such."

"You are _such_ a geek."

Gus grinned at his dad and walked over to see James. He crouched down in front of the stroller, whispered that he liked his pants, and then gave him a kiss.

"Meet us back here at ten," Brian said, checking his watch. It was almost nine. "If I stay here any longer..."

"He'll turn into a pumpkin," Justin interjected.

"I'll get _hives_."

Gus gave an, "Aye-aye!" started bobbing his head to the Earth, Wind, & Fire song that started playing at the Evil Eye, and skipped away back to his girlfriend.

"Your son's a nutcase," Justin said good-naturedly, shaking his head and grabbing the stroller handle.

Brian _hmmph_ ed. "I hadn't noticed." He patted at the front of his jacket for his pack of cigarettes and said, "C'mon. I need to sneak off and smoke while you view the paintings of your beloved."

"You're not supposed to be smoking, Mr. I'll Quit Once The Baby Comes."

"That's why I'm going to sneak off and do it."

"I quit cold turkey."

"You only smoked after sex and when you were pissed."

Justin gave Brian the eye. "That was the majority of the time."

"Whatever." Brian gently shoved Justin out of the way and took over pushing the stroller. "Let's get the fuck going, hives are forming as we speak."

*****

After waiting in line for half and hour, Gus and Kaylie finally were able to get a seat on the ferris wheel.

He kind of had everything planned out in his mind. First, he was going to, when they were stopped at the top of the wheel, tell Kaylie for the first time that he loved her. They were going to make out until the operator told them to get off, and then Gus was going to find a fucking ex-convict running a game and he was going to win her a prize.

But, of course, it being Gus Peterson-Marcus, none of that actually happened.

When Gus and Kaylie were stopped at the top of the ferris wheel, their cheeks pink and eyes bright from laughing at Gus's dumb jokes, Gus leaned in, kissed Kaylie quickly, and with a shy smile, started to speak, when...

"Gus, we need to talk."

When _that_ left Kaylie's lips.

Gus's heart stopped. "About what?"

The girl sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and reached up to fix her hair, to smooth her fingers through her dark locks even though she looked perfect. She looked beautiful.

"Don't get mad, okay?"

Gus swallowed.

"So, I really like you. You're sweet and funny, and you're pretty much the most adorable boy alive." Kaylie took a deep breath. "And I've had _so_ much fun dating you these past couple of months...going out with you, talking to you," she lowered her voice, "doing it with you."

Gus smiled a little and nodded. "Me too. Times a million."

"But I think we should..." Kaylie closed her eyes, as if bracing herself. "I think we should stop."

"Stop?"

"Stop doing all that stuff."

Gus threw up in his mouth and swallowed it. The puke burned his throat on the way back down. "Are we...?"

"I wanna break up." Kaylie pressed her lips together so tightly that they turned white. "Okay?"

Gus stared at her.

"My parents are kind of..." The girl made a face. "We're _seniors_ , and they don't want me getting serious with a guy like..."

Him.

The ferris wheel started moving again.

Gus wanted to push up the bar and leap.

*****

At ten o'clock, Brian and Justin were sitting at the picnic table Gus and Kaylie had eaten at, sharing a plate of curly fries and flirting. Brian had Justin's calves captured between his feet under the table when he checked his cell phone, noting the time.

10:12.

"Where the fuck's my kid?" He asked, sending Gus a text.

"Probably taking your advice and fucking Kaylie in the fun house. Smooth move."

"Or fingering her on the ferris wheel." Brian shook his head.

"Or she's blowing him in the bathroom, or he's eating her in the agriculture barn. Or..."

"You can stop now."

Justin laughed breathily.

After seven more minutes, Gus hadn't answered the text, so Brian called him.

Voice mail.

Justin sucked salt off his thumb and said, "What if something happened to him?"

"Like what? He broke his dick?"

"What if he went back to the booth that kid works at, and they got in a fight, and..."

"Here he fucking is." Brian pointed to the skinny kid in the stripes making his way toward them. Gus had his hands shoved in his pockets and his head down.

"There's Waldo!" Justin joked, wiping off his hands on his jeans and standing from the picnic table. He froze.

Gus had red eyes and tear streaks down his cheeks.

"Let's go," he said in a gruff, completely un-Gus-like voice, not even looking at either of the adults.

Brian walked up to him and touched his shoulder. "Sonny Boy?"

Gus shrugged his hand off and shook his head. "C'mon, I'm tired."

"What the fuck?"

He refused to say anything.

On the walk back to the car, Justin hung back with James, giving Brian a chance to talk to Gus in private, but nothing came of it. Gus ended up climbing in the back seat of the Jag and leaning his head against the window. Eyes closed. Mouth shut.

Brian tried to talk to him the entire way back to the house, but Gus repeatedly told him to mind his own fucking business.

"Did something happen with Kaylie?" Justin asked in a quiet voice, watching Gus's face in the rearview mirror.

" _No_. Shut up."

Justin nodded but didn't believe.

When they arrived home, Brian pulled into the garage, and practically before he even had a chance to kill the engine, Gus was out, slamming the car door behind him.

The car door that ended up waking the sleeping James, who proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs.

"Gus, _what the fuck_?" Brian yelled, pushing open his own door and climbing out at lightning speed. He moved over to where Gus was standing, using his own key to try to unlock the front door, and grabbed him by the back of the shirt. "What's your problem?"

"Leave me _alone_ ," Gus said, twisting from his father's grip.

Brian snatched Gus's hand and pulled him away from the front door. He gently pinned him against the side of Justin's Mercedes. "Talk."

" _No_." Gus's eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip began to shake.

Brian reached a hand out and stroked his son's hair. Softening. "What's wrong?"

The moment the front door opened and shut, signifying Justin and James's entrance into the house, the dam broke.

Gus exploded with tears.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey," Brian said, placing a hand on the back of Gus's neck and pulling him against his chest. He rested his cheek against the top of Gus's head. "Tell me."

Gus's skinny body shook against his father's. He placed his hands on Brian's chest and tried to push away, but eventually gave up, relaxing into the embrace.

He sniffed. "Kaylie fucking...broke up with me."

Brian nodded and wrapped an arm around his kid. He didn't know what to say.

"It _always_ happens to _me_. All the fucking time."

"It doesn't just happen to _you_."

"It _does_. Seriously, I'm like, the hottest...guy in school, okay? And girls are...always breaking up with me 'cause I'm stupid or I'm...I'm not serious enough, or their parents don't like me, or..."

"You are _not_ fucking stupid." Brian took a step back and looked his kid in the eye.

It was then that he noticed that their eyes were the same.

It was like staring into his own eyes, almost, but a different version of his own.

"You're not stupid. I don't know why the fuck you think th--"

"Girls only like me because I'm hot." Gus sniffed. "Because I'm a good fuck, because I'm _nice_. I'm _funny_." He swiped the sleeve of his Waldo shirt across his eyes and looked up at Brian, suddenly old. Suddenly stripped away of all the frivolous Gus-ness. "They like dating me for three months and having...sex with me and then they dump me 'cause I'm not what they _want_. They want _smart_ guys who'll grow up to make lots of money and who aren't the fucking...class clown and shit."

Brian closed his eyes for a brief moment and shook his head. "Fuck them, okay?" His arms were shaking. He was completely unprepared to talk to his kid about shit like this. He wasn't _qualified_ to talk to his kid about shit like this.

Was he?

Gus swiped his eyes once more and murmured, "You don't understand." He shrugged. "I'm done."

He slid out from between Brian and the car and, shoving his hands in his pockets, began making his way toward the front door of the house.

Brian hurt inside for that fucking kid. He hurt inside more than he cared to admit to himself.

He didn't know what to do.

*****

In the house, Justin was untangling a crying James from the pile of blankets in his carrier when Gus pushed his way through the front door and ran up the staircase. His suede shoes pounded against the wooden steps and then against the floor upstairs.

Brian came in a few minutes later, a blank look on his face. He walked up to Justin and shook his head at him, eyes a little dead.

"It was Kaylie, wasn't it?" Justin asked over the sound of cries, pulling James from his carrier and holding him against his chest. He began to gently bounce the baby, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Yep."

"Want me to talk to him?"

" _Mm_ , no." Brian shook his head. "I've got it."

"Sure?"

Brian shrugged and began to make his way up the stairs.

He found Gus half-naked, dressed only in blue boxer shorts and striped socks, sprawled across his bed. His face was buried in a pile of pillows but his shoulders weren't shaking.

Brian took a deep breath.

"Gus."

"Leave me alone."

" _Gus_." Brian walked up to the orange bunk beds -- which they really needed to exchange for a regular bed -- and leaned his head against the wooden ladder. He peered through the rungs at his son. "Talk to me, okay?"

"About _what_? You don't get it. You're gay and you never dated anyone except Justin."

Brian never _dated_ Justin. He swallowed back a scoff.

"Look, c'mon," he tried in a low voice, wrapping an arm around the side of the ladder. "You're acting like a girl."

"I'm _not_ acting like a girl. If I were acting like a girl, I'd be busy dumping guys like me right now." He groaned and, apparently suffocating, finally flipped around onto his back and took a deep breath. His face was red.

"Just...don't worry about this shit, okay? You're in fucking _high school_."

"So?" Gus shrugged. "I actually _like_ these girls, Dad. I love them. And they apparently just see me as a good time." He rubbed his hands across his face.

Brian laughed mirthlessly under his breath and pushed away from the ladder. He made his way around the bunk beds and took a seat beside Gus. "How the hell did I spawn a romantic?"

Gus sighed and rolled to the side, resting his forehead against his father's leg.

"Listen," Brian breathed. He placed a hand on his son's head and carded his fingers through his hair. "I'm not gonna say all that shit about you 'finding someone,' because it would very probably cause me to projectile vomit." He smirked. "But I'll say that you're hot, _and_ you're a good fucking kid, okay? And if you want something, you'll get it."

Gus started crying then. He cried quietly, his shoulders shaking, and Brian looked at him and just...really fucking loved him. He couldn't help it.

"Stop crying," he mumbled, reaching over and tickling Gus's side. "You cry more than your mother."

Gus rolled onto his back and, with a snotty nose and a wet face, called his father an asshole.

Brian leaned down and kissed his forehead.


	3. Chapter 3

The days following the Allegheny County Autumnal Fair and leading up to Halloween went by in a blur—a manic swirl of working hard and hardly working; of finding time to fuck amidst raising a newborn; and of Brian comforting Gus when he called the house at midnight, saying, “Kaylie’s such a fucking bitch,” and “I tried to talk to her in homeroom, but she wouldn’t give me the time of day,” and “If I just killed myself no one would fucking care, y’know?”

Needless to say, Brian drank a lot of alcohol.

The morning of the 31st came as a relief, almost, because it was something to distract him from thinking about his impending train-wreck of a son and how to help him and what to say to him and how to make sure James grew up without the drama queen gene.

He and Justin were hosting a party at the house that night for the entire extended family of friends, and he’d spent nearly the entirety of the 30th smoking cigarettes at the iMac and supervising Emmett and Darren’s decorating. Justin arrived home with a whimpering James at seven, carrying newly-altered Halloween costumes in plastic garment bags and looking flustered.

“If you don’t take him right now, I’m going to have a breakdown,” Justin said calmly, handing over the carrier and draping the costumes across an armchair. He ran his hands across his flushed face and exhaled loudly. “Crying. Nonstop. All day.”

Brian smirked and took the wiggling baby from his carrier. “You missing me?” He asked James quietly, cutting his eyes to Justin and holding in a laugh.

“In a month and a half, you’ve spoiled him,” Justin said, trying not to smile when the baby opened his eyes and looked up at Brian, a pleasant expression suddenly replacing his red-faced pout. “He wants to be held _all the time_.”

Brian made a silly face at James. “I think Daddy’s jealous I’m your favorite.”

“So jealous,” Justin said, coming up and hugging him quickly from behind. “I’m so incredibly jealous I’m going to go take the longest shower of my life, drink three glasses of wine, and go to bed out of my depression while you two bask in your unbreakable bond.”

“Daddy thinks he’s clever, Jamie.” Brian narrowed his eyes at James and shook his head. “But he doesn’t know all the fun we’re gonna have plotting his demise.”

“I hope you have the time of your life.” Justin twisted around, kissed Brian’s cheek, then his son’s, and took off at a near-jog toward the staircase.

James slept a total of three hours that night, from ten ‘til one, and didn’t fall back to sleep until six-thirty Halloween morning. Justin grumbled, his eyes bloodshot and face stubbly, that it was Brian’s fault for being such a baby-spoiling dick.

“Really, now?” Brian asked after placing James in his crib by the window and walking blearily back to bed.

“Mmhm,” Justin hummed sleepily, reaching for him. “Now fuck me before I fall asleep.”

“You really know how to turn a guy on.”

“I’m dying of exhaustion; what do you expect?”

Brian hovered over Justin and smiled down at him. He reached out and stroked Justin’s stubbly jaw-line with his palm. “Kinda hot,” he said, pondering.

“Do the dark circles under my eyes make your dick hard?”

“Yeah,” Brian said, leaning down and capturing Justin’s lips in a kiss.

*****

Brian looked at Justin sometimes during sex—especially in early morning when the lamp was on and the sun was beginning to peek up over the horizon, shooting golden lines through the bedroom windows. He’d get him completely naked and just stare at him, watching his naked body react to the dirty, dirty things he was thinking as he stared back at Brian, wanting him.

That morning, Brian stroked his fingertips up and down the expanse of Justin’s flat stomach, feeling it quiver slightly, watching Justin’s nipples go from a pale pink to a deep blush as they tightened with arousal. He slid his hands across Justin’s thighs, between his legs, and watched as blood began to fill his half-hard cock, sending it from half-mast to fully erect in moments.

Justin still had a beautiful body, really, even at thirty-four. Even after age made him slightly softer and lack of sleep gave him shadowed eyes and beard stubble with a tiny, pink pimple from an ingrown hair on the underside of his chin. Brian couldn’t help but look at him and still find him unbelievably sexy.

He stretched out on top of him and kissed his face, using the palms of his hands to keep dirty blond hair out of Justin’s eyes. Justin slid his legs out from under Brian and wrapped them around his waist.

When it was time to enter him, Brian did it slowly, using his generous amount of precum as lube and gripping Justin tightly at the hips. He pushed in with one long, drawn-out stroke, watching every tiny change in Justin’s face, watching his nose scrunch up and his white teeth clamp down on his bottom lip.

Justin squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in and out through his nose, reaching to wrap his arms around Brian’s chest, under his armpits, pulling him against him and into him, deeper, deeper, more.

Brian thrust slowly and carefully and kissed Justin often, not to make for purposely warm, lazy, loving sex, but because sometimes a slow, gentle fuck was what they wanted. Sometimes listening to Justin’s low panting, the little gulping sounds he made when he swallowed, and the slick, wet, slurping sound of Brian’s cock slowly moving inside him turned Brian on like nothing else did.

Justin stroked his cock as Brian rocked in him, letting out breathy _uuuuuhhhh_ s when the sensations got intense. He leaned his head back, exposing the pale flesh of his neck, and Brian licked up and down his skin, collecting beads of sweat on his tongue and sucking blood to the surface in several areas—not enough to cause hickeys but enough to leave tiny pink spots that would fade in minutes.

He sped his thrusts when Justin began to shake a little—when he opened his eyes halfway and stared up at Brian, this desperate, on-the-edge expression flooding his face.

“Are you about to come?” Brian leaned down and whispered in his ear. He tongued Justin’s earlobe and moved faster. “Want me to come inside you? Huh?”

Justin dug the sides of his knees into Brian’s ribs and squeezed his left arm tighter and tighter around Brian’s neck, his right hand furiously jerking his cock. “Yes,” he murmured. “ _Yes_.”

Brian pulled back and scooped up Justin’s right leg, pressing it against his chest and fucking him quickly from the new position. Justin dropped his left leg from around Brian’s waist and used it to push against the mattress, rocking himself onto Brian’s dick harder, harder, as Brian thrust into him and bit at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, _fuck_ , I’m coming,” Justin groaned, hand sliding up and down his cock as streams of cum spurted all over his chest and Brian’s.

Brian hummed low in his throat and slowed his thrusts. “You’re so hot,” he whispered, almost without meaning to, as he ran a hand through the cum on Justin’s chest and watched Justin’s red face and listened to him pant. “So hot.” He came to the beat of his slow, careful thrusts and to the rhythmic contractions of Justin’s ass squeezing around his cock.

They fell asleep not long after, Brian’s leg and arm sprawled across Justin and his dick softening against his thigh.

*****

The alarm woke them at half past eight, and they climbed out of bed reluctantly, changed the sheets, and dressed for the day while James slept soundly in his crib.

He woke at nine-thirty, stretching out his little legs and giving a tiny cry upon realizing he was alone in his crib and not cradled in someone's arms.

Justin came into the bedroom and scooped him up not long after, kissing his face and holding him gently against his body. "Happy Halloween, Jamie-James," he said in a sweet voice, leaning in close and breathing his son's warm, formula breath. "Ready for your big day?"

Justin fed him, gave him a sponge bath on a towel spread across the bed, then dressed him in the Halloween outfit Jennifer had purchased for him.

"Okay, handsome," Justin said when he was finished. "We're ready to go."

*****

The diner was packed for lunch, customers huddled in booths draped with orange holiday lights and ducking under hanging plastic spiders and cotton cobwebs. Kiki wore a witch hat and striped leggings with her black dress, and the busboy, Felix, wore a bloody arrow headband and gray lipstick.

Michael and Ben were there at the usual booth, chatting over sandwiches.

"Hell _oooo_ ," Michael cooed to James upon spotting the trio, wiggling his fingers in greeting and motioning for everyone to sit down. "How's Little Wonder?"

Brian and Justin had Pink Plate Specials and two cups each of black coffee while Michael and Ben held and cuddled James and talked about how cute he was getting and how adorable he would look in one of the baby Rage Halloween costumes that Michael had campaigned for but that Justin had thought was stupid.

"We're not doing a baby line," Justin reasserted, munching on a fry. "That would literally be the unsexiest thing we could possibly do for the franchise."

"But I was _thinking_ … Y'know, with Jamie and all, what if _Rage_ and _J.T._ had a Little Wonder of their own?"

Justin scrunched up his face. "Art imitating life? Eh. I dunno."

"Just think about it." Michael cradled James to his chest and made a face at him. "How'd you like to be a star?"

"Y'know…" Justin shrugged. "Zephyr and Ken Kirschner haven't had much action lately…"

Ben and Michael made eyes at each other, the two of them seemingly biting back smiles. "Zephyr and Ken Kirschner may just be thinking about it…"

" _What_?" Brian half-laughed, ripping open a packet of sugar for his coffee.

"I dunno. We're thinking about _maaaybe_ …"

"Michael, Ben, that's great!" Justin said, smiling happily.

"We're just _thinking_ about it," Ben stated with a smile. "With our experience and at our age, adoption might be something Michael and I are interested in. Especially since Hunter's grown and Jenny's turning thirteen soon."

Brian raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the wall. "Jenny's a raving bitch. You just better do a better job raising it than Cunt Draculez did with her."

Michael rolled his eyes at Brian and smiled.

*****

"So what do you think about Michael and Ben?" Justin asked that night, as he sat in the armchair in the nursery and watched Brian dress James in a white onesie, a tiny leather jacket, and black pants.

"It'll be good for him." Brian shrugged. "He's Michael. He's always wanted…babies and shit."

Justin smiled. "It's funny."

"What?"

"How grown up we all are. Y'know?" He shuddered. "Scary."

"Mm." Brian didn't really answer. He simply picked up James and held him to him backwards, the baby's back and head resting against Brian's chest, his lower body cradled in Brian's arms. "A true rebel without a cause," Brian said, turning around and showing him off to Justin.

"Oh my God." Justin laughed loudly. "Oh my _God_. He looks like a little bald punk!"

Brian smirked and kissed the top of the baby's head. "It's okay, Sonny. Give it a year or so."

*****

Emmett and Darren had decked out the living room in preparation for the party. The All American, hardwood-filled, rustic-decored space had been transformed into a gothic paradise, rust-colored pillows and white cushions exchanged for red and black ones, expensive, steel candleholders replaced with crystal balls and severed hands holding half-melted candles. The windows were covered in faux cobwebs with realistic rubber spiders nestled within, and above the fireplace mantel hung a party store gothic painting of a man whose eyes followed you around the room.

After Brian and Justin dressed in their costumes--Justin's zombie outfit complete with face paint, fake blood, and a dirty, torn T-shirt exposing the huge wound in his side he'd enjoyed painting on, Brian's Guy Dressed Only in a Leather Vest and Skintight Leather Pants outfit--Justin mixed two bowls of "blood punch," one virgin and one alcoholic. Brian appeared behind him when he was finished and, with one arm looped around Justin's waist, poured half a packet of E into one of the bowls and stirred it with a ladle.

Justin exhaled loudly. "You _do_ know you just spiked the punch for the kids, right?"

Brian suddenly noticed the "non-alcoholic" label Justin had carefully stuck on the side of the bowl.

The punch table ended up holding _three_ bowls of blood punch--alcoholic, non-alcoholic, and drugged, each labeled accordingly--and the pair snuck several cups of vodka-punch before anyone had even arrived.

"So what are you?" Justin asked, laughing as Brian shoved him up against a wall.

"The unbelievably sexy man who wants to fuck you within an inch of your life."

Justin broke into tipsy-giggles, wrapping his arms around Brian's waist and kissing him happily.

*****

People began arriving at a quarter 'til eight. Brian put on a T. Rex album, lit a cigarette, and hung out with Michael on the couch. Justin retrieved the newly-awake James from the nursery upstairs and handed him over to Debbie, who proceeded to dance around the room, rocking him and singing. There were games of dirty Scrabble and spiked punch and Emmett spreading out the Twister mat and convincing Justin to play with him. Daphne arrived with her boyfriend Jordan and their kids. Frankie was dressed as a cowgirl, and she lugged around a plastic pumpkin filled with candy she'd gotten that night trick or treating, offering what she didn't like to the adults. Zee crawled around on the rug in a monkey costume and tried to pull up to cruise around the coffee table.

By nine o'clock, the lesbians still hadn't arrived, so Brian went into the kitchen to call Gus. The call automatically went to voice mail, so he dialed Lindsay. Jenny answered after one ring.

"We're on our way," she said in place of a greeting, sounding as annoyed as ever. "Gus is in trouble, big time, and the moms are pissed."

Brian rolled his eyes and hung up. He didn't know why, but he always felt, if only in the deepest, smallest part of him, that it was his fault every time Gus did something stupid. Every time Lindsay explained herself to him in phone calls concerning Gus's groundings, he always knew, just knew, that his name had come up more than once in the negotiation she'd had with Melanie over his punishment.

"It's obvious who he takes after." Brian could just hear Melanie say it and Lindsay think it.

He didn't mind. Gus was _his_ kid, goddammit. But it did bother him somewhat, truthfully, knowing he should probably do something about Gus's behavior even though he had no idea what that something should be.

 _T_ he Marcus-Petersons arrived half an hour later, after the top of the special punch bowl had been skimmed and suddenly The Bangles was playing and Justin and Daphne were trying to teach Frankie how to walk like an Egyptian and Emmett was lying with Michael on the Twister mat, laughing. Jenny was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, but on her feet were yellow Converse shoes. She had a sour expression on her face that only scrunched up further when she stepped into the living room and observed the scene.

"Okay, who spiked the punch?" She asked loudly with a dramatic sigh.

Justin overheard and, making a "whoops!" face, went to put the drugged punch in the refrigerator to bring back out once the kids were gone.

"Where's Gus?" Brian asked Lindsay, noting his absence. "You didn't make him stay at home, did you? Because you know he's probably out joyriding with some--"

"He's gone," Lindsay interjected, running a hand through her hair. "He asked to go to his girlfriend's party, Mel and I told him no, that he had to come here, and he snuck out while the two of us left to pick Jenny up from her friend's house."

Brian froze. "What's his girlfriend's name?"

"It's that Kaylie girl. The pretty brunette?"

"Gus isn't with her." Brian ran his finger over his lips. "They broke up."

Melanie narrowed her eyes. "They didn't break up. Gus would've told us…"

Brian leaned back against the wall. He didn't know why, but he had a very bad feeling.

*****

"Oh my God, okay. How do you…?" Gus laughed, a squeaky laugh that was half-silent. The air all around him was blue and purple, and the couch cushion felt soft under him, too soft, as if he could lift his feet from the floor and sink down into the stuffing. Addison was playing [M83](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDyonn3mQj8) low on the stereo, and the muted television was turned to a movie channel, where _Ginger Snaps Back_ was playing.

"Here," Addison said, face painted up like The Crow but smeared and bare in some parts from swiping away sweat with his palms. "Put your lips right here, and just…" He handed the glass pipe to Gus, a makeup-less Jack Skellington, who giggled away like a naughty child.

"Oh…oh fuck," Gus said after taking a hit. He handed the pipe back and slumped on the couch, shaking with laughter. "Oh, God. It's like heaven. Fucking angels. Right?" He sniffed.

Addison turned the stereo up.

After a while, Gus couldn't feel his muscles. It was like all his bones suddenly disappeared, and he was simply a bag of skin, stretched out on Addison Townsend's couch. His heart beat really fast but he breathed really slowly, like he didn't need to. He felt he could hold his breath forever.

"Where was Kaylie going tonight?" Addison asked, fidgeting with an Altoids tin full of pretty, colorful tablets. He took out a tab of ecstasy and held it between his thumb and forefinger.

Gus mumbled something and shrugged. "I fucking hate her. She's such a…"

"She's a cunt, isn't she?"

"A total fucking _cunt_." Gus rubbed both hands over his face and breathed deeply. He felt like he needed to stand and run, just run, run as far as he could. His skin tingled. "She waxes her pussy."

Addison laughed and reached out to grab Gus around the wrist. "I've got some people who can…fuck her up or something."

Gus pulled his hand away. "No." He shook his head. "I just want to forget about her. I want to talk about…" He burst out laughing. "Druuuugs."

"Mm." Addison placed half the tab of E on his tongue and outstretched it. "You want?" He asked around his tongue, making Gus laugh at the sound.

Gus swallowed, his mouth extremely dry, and sat up. Addison took him by the collar and pulled him into a kiss.

Gus took the E and let it roll around in his mouth as he kissed the other boy, as he placed a hand on either side of Addison's face, smearing his makeup, and sucked on his tongue.

He'd done it before, more than once. Kissed guys. It was never sexual, just a way to transfer funny pills or take a hit. He knew Addison had, too, by the way he pulled away like it was no big deal and went to close the Altoids tin.

Addison restarted the song. He turned back to Gus and raised an eyebrow.

Gus kissed him again. He thought he was kind of a little bit hard, and his mouth was dry, and all he could think about was using Addison's tongue to make it wet again.

But Addison shoved him. Hard. "What the fuck are you doing?" He asked, laughing, but clearly annoyed. He wiped his mouth off on his hand. "You queer now or something?"

Gus felt like he was going to throw up. He stared at Addison, at his stupid smeared makeup and the stupid smirk on his face, and punched him, square in the jaw.

*****

Brian pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He inhaled. It tasted thick, chalky, like burned popcorn. "So he said he was going to Kaylie's party?" Brian asked again, holding his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes. And Melanie and I decided he should be with his family, so we told him no. He was getting dressed when the two of us left."

Melanie nodded.

" _Fuck_." Brian rubbed between his eyes with the knuckle of his thumb. "Call him."

"We took away his phone a few days ago. It's in our bedroom."

Brian shoved off the wall and walked over to grab his keys and jacket off the hanger.

"Where are you going?"

"To find my fucking kid." Brian opened the front door, dropped the cigarette on the garage floor, and stomped it out with the toe of his boot. "Tell Justin."

"Let me go with you," Lindsay said in a panic from the doorway, reaching to button her jacket back up. It suddenly dawned on her that this was serious. Brian thought it was serious. What wasn't he telling her?

"Stay here," he replied, not turning back. He shoved his arms in the sleeves of his coat and closed it tightly. He was going to deal with this.

*****

Gus erupted from Addison's guest house like air fleeing a popped balloon. He ran as hard and as fast as he could, Converse sneakers hitting the grass, then the sidewalk, then the road, and then the sidewalk again. He shoved his hands in his pockets and, realizing he didn't have his phone, screamed.

" _Aaaaaaaah_!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, brain spinning from the drugs. He felt panicky, and there were sparkles in the corners of his eyes, no matter where he looked, no matter if he closed them.

He had no idea where he was. So he ran.

He ran down the sidewalk, feet pounding, feeling like boulders on the end of his legs. Heavy. He was tired and yet not tired at all, like he wanted to sleep but his eyes wouldn't stay shut and his brain wouldn't switch off.

"I'm going to die," he thought as he ran, tripping over a crack in the sidewalk but catching himself with his hands just in time. They stung and bled a little so he shoved them in his pockets and screamed again.

*****

Brian searched through his GPS navigator for an address he'd entered months ago on his way to do some damage control. Crown Court.

He couldn't be sure, but he thought. He believed. If he knew his son like he thought he did, he knew he'd be back to his old habits, his old friends. Brian swallowed metal spit and sped off.

*****

Gus found a pay-phone he didn't know how far down the endless suburban street. It was inside a dirty, lit glass booth with fingerprints on the windows and old, wadded up Kleenexes and snack-sized potato chip bags littering the floor.

He shoved his way in, grabbing the phone off the hook and shaking as he dug in his pants pockets for change. His stomach ached, mouth was so dry his tongue felt shriveled.

The _clink_ of coins through the slot on the phone rang so loud Gus's ears hurt. He cried as he dialed with dirty fingers stained with paint from Addison's face.

"Hello?" Justin answered, grabbing the hall phone after it rang twice and balancing it between his shoulder and ear. He walked stinky little James into the nursery and laid him down on the changing table. "Hello?" All he heard was sobbing. A low, boyish, " _uh-huuu-huuu-huuuuu_." A wet, snotty sniff.

"Gus? _Gus_? Is it you?"

"Come get me!" He yelled, sounding panicky and fearful.

Justin's heart stopped. "Gus? Where are you? Are you okay?"

James began to cry on the changing table, hating his dirty diaper.

" _Gus_? Fuck, Gus, are you there?"

"I need you! Please! I need Dad!"

There was a horrible sound of retching and coughing. Justin reached out to rub his hand soothingly on James's stomach, trying to calm him long enough to speak with Gus.

"Tell me where you are, Gus. Where are you?"

"I don't…I don't know…"

"Gus, are you on drugs? Did you take drugs?"

The call disconnected.

"Mother _fuck_!" Justin yelled, pulling his cell from his pocket and calling Brian.

He answered after half a ring. "Yeah?"

"Brian, Gus just called. He's fucked up. Didn't know where he was."

" _Fuck_." Brian breathed heavily, beginning to panic. "What was the number?"

Justin gave Brian the number to the pay phone and hung up.

James was beginning to really cry, then, his face turning red and fists pulled tight into little red balls. Justin managed to change his diaper, though his hands shook terribly, and he picked him up and kissed his crying little mouth and held him tightly to his body. The pit of his stomach felt like stone.

*****

"Where _the fuck_ are you?!" Brian yelled into the phone the moment Gus answered. He was doing 75 in a 50, his right hand was white from gripping the steering wheel, and couple of stray tears rested on his cheeks.

"I don't know, I don't know…"

"Do you know where you were before?"

Brian heard Gus coughing and gagging through his tears. "Addison's."

"I'm on my way." Brian pressed the gas pedal just a little bit more, went just a few mph faster. His heart pounded in his chest. "Stay on the line, okay?"

He found him a little less than a mile past the Townsend house on Crown Court Street, huddled small like a tiny child on the floor of a phone booth with the phone cradled in his arms. There was vomit everywhere--all over Gus, all over the ground.

Brian grabbed him roughly by the arm, jerked him up, and pulled him toward the car. "Tell me _what the fuck_ you're on," he demanded after shoving Gus in the front seat. No tenderness was found in his voice--only sheer fear, panic, and anger.

"I don't know," Gus cried, hiding his face in his hands and shaking. "I don't know."

"God _dammit_!" Brian screamed so loud it echoed. He slammed his hand down on the dashboard. "Fucking _tell me_!"

Gus started wailing like a small child, pulling his legs up to his chest and sobbing. "I smoked out of a glass…pipe and then took some E."

"Did you smoke fucking _crack_?"

"I don't fucking _know_!" Gus flipped out, screaming loudly and kicking, hitting everything he could find--the dashboard, the car seat, the car door, his father.

Brian grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into him, holding him so tight to his chest Gus couldn't move. Gus could only cry and hug and shake all over.

Once he was calm, Brian strapped Gus in and handed him a liter of SmartWater from his back seat, telling him to drink the whole fucking bottle. All of it. He called Justin and told him to get everybody out of the house and to tell the lesbians he found Gus, and then he ended the call and started to cry.

Gus chugged half the bottle before leaning over and throwing it all back up in the floorboard. Brian told him to keep drinking.

When they arrived home, Brian grabbed his kid and pulled him by the arm into the house. Lindsay and Melanie were there, tear stains on their cheeks, and Justin was walking around rocking the baby in his arms, humming softly to get him to go to sleep.

"Gus!" Lindsay yelled, walking toward him with her arms outstretched. "Honey, are you…"

Brian held up his hand and stopped her from touching him. He pulled Gus up the staircase and into his bedroom, where he took him into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

"I don't wanna," Gus cried, snot running down his face and eyes swollen from crying. Brian ignored him, roughly undressing his son and walking him into the shower. He stepped in, too, clothes and all, and just held Gus there, under the lukewarm spray. Brian had his arms wrapped around him from behind, holding Gus's back to his chest, holding him so tight he thought he might hurt him. He cried like he hadn't cried in a while and chanted over and over, "Don't ever fucking do this to me again. Don't do this to me."

Lindsay came in a few minutes later, tears streaming down her face. "Is he okay?" She demanded to know, yelling to Brian, who was drying off with a towel.

"Get the fuck _out!_ " Gus yelled from the shower, kicking at the shower door so hard the glass threatened to break.

"Get out, Lindsay." Brian tried to be calm. "Please. He'll be fine."

"Get out, get out, _get out_!" Gus screamed at the top of his lungs. "She's looking at me _naked_!" He cried to Brian, before launching himself at the shower wall, kicking and screaming and pounding it with his fists.

Lindsay ran out, crying loudly, and slammed the door behind her.

*****

Brian toweled his son off like he was still a small child, wrapped a fluffy robe around his shoulders, and pushed him into his bedroom. He held his shoulders. "If you ever fucking…"

He felt himself losing control, something inside him snapping in half, shattering. He felt blood rush through his veins, to his head. He wanted to scream.

Suddenly fearful, he let go of Gus and grabbed hold of Gus's old, orange bunkbed--the bed he'd begged for at the furniture store when he was seven and visiting for the summer. He squeezed one of the wooden ladder rungs in his hands until the edges felt like they were cutting into his skin. "If you _ever_ do _anything_ like that again," Brian continued, staring at his shaking son with terrified anger in his voice. "I swear to _God_ , if you smoke anything harder than pot, take any type of fucking drug, I will…" He froze, panting, panicking. "You'll never see the _fucking_ light of day again."

" _Dad_ ," Gus pleaded, throwing himself down on his bed and pounding the mattress with his fists. " _Fuuuuuuuuuuck_!" He screamed so loudly his voice cracked. "Fucking _Kaylie_ is such a _fucking bitch_!"

"I don't want to hear about _fucking Kaylie_ ever _fucking_ again!" Brian yelled, kicking the leg of the bunk bed. "You need to stop thinking about _fucking_ girls and worry about your _fucking_ future." He was so angry he felt his skin boil. All he could think was, "What if he hit Gus? What if he accidentally hit him?" He had to get away.

Brian bolted through the door to Gus's room and slammed it behind him. He thought he was going to be sick, so sick. And the worst part of it all was that his fists were still balled, still clenched at his sides.

He sunk down to the ground, clothes dripping wet, pulled his knees to his chest, and shook.

He was his father.

He'd felt it. That anger. Those balled fists. That rage.

He'd looked at his son, his flesh and blood, and had wanted to explode.

A tear fell from his eye, then another, then another, and pretty soon he was against the wall in the upstairs hallway, face buried in his arms, crying. He was crying like a child after a temper tantrum. It made noise, and it shook his body, and Brian was frightened of it, so frightened he wanted to vomit. He was crying like he hadn't cried in years and years, not since blood-stained scarves and a beautiful boy on cold cement, not since those nights he was alone at the loft, pushing his palms to his eyes and huddling on the shower floor.

He loved his fucking kid. He could hardly comprehend how much. The thought made him sick.

*****

He composed himself half and hour later, washing his face in his bathroom and changing out of his wet clothes. He stared at himself in the mirror and saw Gus in his face, more than he ever had before.

He left his room and sauntered down the hall.

Gus was curled up in a ball on his bed, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Brian's black tanks. He was a very skinny kid, built naturally leaner than Brian, though he was almost as tall, and the neck of the tank swallowed his shoulder and drooped down his chest.

"Gus?" Brian said gently, stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. He moved over to the bed and sat down. "Gus."

Gus sniffed loudly, letting his father know he was awake.

Brian shifted around, lying down beside his son and pulling him to his chest. He held him tight, breathing in his hair and kissing his forehead.

"You're so much better than this," he whispered, closing his eyes and just…talking. "I did this shit, okay? I got fucked up, and I let stupid, insignificant shit piss me off. And when I got to college, I fucked around, and I did _more_ drugs." He paused, taking a moment to worry his bottom lip in his teeth. "And then I made a lot of fucking mistakes, and I did shit to people…to people I…loved that they didn't deserve. And it took me almost fucking _thirty-five years_ to be okay." He sniffed, leaning back a little to look at his son's face. "I love you," he said quietly. "Don't do that to yourself."

Gus's shoulders began to shake again, and tears leaked from his closed eyes.

"C'mere," Brian said, sitting up and pulling his son to him.

They sat together, Brian's back against the wall and Gus's head on his chest. Brian stroked his son's hair and hugged him and loved him so completely. And he knew then, he _knew_ , that he could never hurt him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments! <33 I'm horrible at getting back to them, but just know they're loved and appreciated.

In the weeks following Halloween, Brian found himself growing used to silence.

Gus stared out car windows during time spent with him, tapping his forefinger against the cool glass while worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He painted pictures in his ketchup at restaurants with the sharp edge of a french fry and slurped thick milkshake through a skinny straw. At the park, he told Brian about English class and his dislike of Shakespeare and about anything and everything other than Halloween, friends, and how he was feeling about…life. The kid Brian usually couldn't shut up--who gobbled up experiences so voraciously, who spoke without a filter and who bombarded him with questions--now twiddled his thumbs and spoke in short sentences over frozen yogurt.

Brian didn't push him; he got it, he thought, and if he didn't, he supposed maybe he didn't have a right to. Gus had seen _it_ in him, the thing, Jack Kinney's blood, probably. Even if it hadn't erupted, even if it hadn't oozed out the pores of Brian's skin, soaking through his shirt like water from the shower, it'd been just beneath, bubbling at the surface. 

Gus was probably fucked up over the drugs and the screaming and Brian's fist pounding the car dashboard and his foot against the leg of the bed and his rough hands shoving him into his bedroom as he swore at him. Even when Brian had held him later on, stroking his hair and telling him things he'd only really ever told _him_ , his son, there'd been a resistance, a chill to Gus's skin, and a quietness uncharacteristic of the loud, whiny, needy teenager he'd turned out to be.

On the tenth of November, while driving Gus to Lindsay and Mel's house from an after school visit to the diner, Brian gripped the steering wheel tightly at a stoplight and looked over at him. Gus was dressed in a [striped sweater and black jeans](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Screenshot2012-01-29at103752PM.png), and his hair, badly in need of a cut, curled under his ears and fell in his eyes. 

"Hey," Brian said, eyes moving back to the light as he waited for green. "You…okay?"

Gus chewed on his thumbnail and shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just wondering." Brian unhooked the sunglasses from his shirt and slid them on. 

After dropping Gus off that day, Brian stopped by Justin's gallery right off the main drag, not far from Kinnetik. He found Justin by the entrance sipping from a coffee mug and talking to a rugged man holding an electric screwdriver. The gallery was in disarray, boards and power-tools scattered around and straight guys covered in sawdust hammering and screwing and nailing (and not in a good way). Justin was having a couple walls knocked down in favor of a more open floor plan and the carpet removed in favor of sleek, dark-stained red oak.

He greeted Brian with a peck on the lips and dragged him into his office. 

"You have no idea how unbelievably horny straight guys in tool belts make me," he said with a smirk, closing the door and leaning against it.

Brian touched him under the chin and leaned in for a soft, slow kiss.

Justin's office was the size of a storage unit and held just about as much junk. His desk was covered with old Starbucks cups, papers, overflowing file folders, and receipt books, which hugged his iMac and nearly obscured the keyboard. There were shelves full of art books and random objects, from miniature sculpture replicas to a beanbag tree frog. On the back wall was a cork board with To Do lists, postcards from various countries he'd visited, and pictures of Brian, James, and several friends. 

Justin pushed Brian onto the [Barcelona two-seater sofa](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/barcelona-sofa.jpg) he'd purchased back when the office was clean and minimalistic and got his hands up under his shirt. "Care to cure my perpetual hard-on?"

Brian smiled, touching his fingers to the warm sliver of soft stomach Justin's disheveled T-shirt exposed. "Not even a hello?"

Justin leaned down and kissed Brian with an open mouth and a hot tongue. He scrabbled his hands across his chest and abdomen and breathed in gentle puffs against his cheek. "Hello."

He blew Brian right there, right in the office with an unlocked door while four men worked construction outside it. Justin took him by the hips, kneading the flesh with his fingers as he sucked and licked, his mouth slowly sliding up and down the warm, soft skin of Brian's cock.

Brian didn't bother keeping quiet, feeling free to stroke and tug Justin's hair as he moaned low, appreciative moans, stomach muscles contracting with every bob of Justin's head. 

Justin sucked hard toward the end, once Brian was close and closer, shoving his hand down the front of his unfastened jeans and jerking his own dripping cock in time with the movement of his mouth on Brian's.

" _Fuck_ ," Brian said through his panting, too close, digging his fingers into Justin's scalp and squeezing his eyes shut. 

He came with a loud groan and pushed Justin's head down harder on his dick, thrusting his hips upward as he erupted over and over again. 

*****

Justin pulled his hand from his pants and placed it on Brian's quivering stomach. He stroked it across the warm, sweaty skin as he licked up every drop of cum, cleaning Brian's softening cock with his tongue.

" _Mmm_ , c'mere," Brian said quietly, breathing hard. He grasped Justin's hands and pulled him upward.

Justin slid up Brian's body and kissed his face, lingering on his cheeks and mouth. He groaned when he felt Brian's hand wander down the front of his pants, and breathed hot breath against Brian's lips when he felt the hand began to stroke him, first gently, massaging and exploring, then more quickly, Brian's skin sliding up and down Justin's slippery cock.

Justin panted, pulling back and burying his face in Brian's neck. "God," he said, raising his hips and thrusting in time with Brian's strokes. "Fuck."

Brian moved his hand more quickly, wrapping his left arm around Justin's back and pulling their chests together. He buried his nose in Justin's hair and sighed when he heard him exhale loudly and felt warm streams of cum on his fist. He pulled him closer.

*****

Justin straddled Brian's lap after they'd cleaned up and smirked as Brian reached out and began doing up his pants for him.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That was nice."

"Mmhm." Brian tugged his head down and kissed him once, twice, quickly. "But you need to clean your office. It's fucking depressing."

Justin kissed him again, chastely, smiling against his lips. "So, hey, how'd it go today?"

Brian leaned back and watched Justin climb off his lap and start trashing the empty Starbucks cups on his desk. "I don't know." He shrugged. "The same."

"I'm sure he'll come around." Justin picked up a Word of the Day desktop calendar and tore off nine little pages worth of passed days. "You did nothing wrong, you know."

"I could have."

Justin wadded up the pages and tossed them in the trash. He looked Brian right in the eye, slowly shaking his head. "But you didn't."

"It doesn't matter." Brian stood and rubbed the heel of his hand across his forehead. 

Justin stepped over to him and wrapped his arms loosely around his waist. "Don't beat yourself up over this." He kissed Brian's chin. "I think _all_ parents feel like that sometimes. The kid does something dangerous or stupid and the parent just kind of…freaks out. Because they're scared and they want to stop it." 

Brian stared at the wall across the room.

"And even though they're freaked out and scared and angry…" Justin rubbed his hands up Brian's back. "They would never act on it. They love their kid. They're only scared _because_ they love them."

Brian pulled from Justin's embrace and reached into his pocket for his keys.

"You're _not_ your father." 

There was a pause, a too-long beat of silence when it seemed even the workers on the other side of the door had stopped to catch their breaths, to listen.

Brian licked his lips and sorted through his keyring for the key to his car. He watched Justin's face and saw nothing but pure, unabashed sincerity, and that both comforted and scared him.

"So I'll see you at home?" He asked quietly, not sure how to feel.

*****

On the way home, Brian swung by Jennifer's to pick up James, who had recently begun staying there during the day while Brian and Justin were at work.

He always felt strange visiting her alone, even though he knew he technically shouldn't since he'd known her for seventeen years. No matter what, he couldn't shake the weird, almost-but-not-quite-comfortable feeling he got entering the gated community and driving up the paved, landscaped driveway to a small but attractive brick home with white windows and French doors. He couldn't shake the bizarre thoughts about how Jennifer was, for all intents and purposes, his mother-in-law, and how she was a genuine WASP whom Brian had never, ever seen without full makeup, earrings, and styled hair. 

She answered the door that day in denim pants and an immaculate, cream-colored blouse, even though she'd just spent eight hours feeding, burping, and changing a two-month-old. 

"Hello, Brian," she greeted, waving him in and shutting the door behind him.

James was stretched out on a blanket on the floor, kicking his legs and watching the light fixture above him. Brian immediately walked over and scooped him up, cradled him to his chest, and gave him a kiss on his impossibly soft forehead.

"Has he been decent?" Brian asked Jennifer, watching the baby's face and speaking in a gentle voice as if to him.

"He's been a little fussy."

Brian exhaled and walked over to the couch. He took a seat and rested James vertically on his lap. "Fussy, huh?" He whispered to him, stroking his thumb down the tiny bridge of his nose. "You take after Justin."

Jennifer sat down beside them and smiled. "His hair's starting to come in."

"Another blondie."

"Don't you love it?" Jennifer reached out and stroked the fine, white-blond hairs growing in patches on his head like the hair of a little old man. "I was thrilled both Justin and Molly turned out blond." She grinned. "Of course, Justin was bald until he was nearly a year and a half. He didn't have his first hair cut until he was four."

Brian laughed through his nose and smiled affectionately. "You're not going to be bald, are you?" He asked James, holding up his fingers and wiggling them a few inches from his face. The baby followed them with his eyes, something new he'd picked up over the past week or so.

"He really takes to you," Jennifer said, watching Brian play with him. "Justin told me you're good at soothing and calming him down."

Brian shrugged a little and averted his eyes in a way that made him appear to Jennifer as a child. He looked almost embarrassed. She suddenly felt the urge to give him a hug, something she felt often those days.

But she changed the subject, instead, asking how he and Justin were adjusting. "Children are trying on relationships sometimes."

Brian smirked and placed a thumb in each of the baby's hands. "Mother Taylor, are you asking about our sex life?"

Jennifer blushed furiously and shook her head, but Brian continued.

"We get it when we can."

"I wasn't…" Jennifer paused, reaching over to grab her cup of tea off a coaster on the coffee table. She took a long, slow sip. "It's just hard to be alone sometimes," she clarified. "And it's stressful, and everyone's cranky." She shrugged and blushed again. "But _that_ 's also part of the struggle. Especially when they start moving around."

"So you're telling me regular fucking is over?"

Jennifer set down her cup and placed the back of her hand to her lips. "Not over. Tricky." She braved a look at Brian, who had an eyebrow raised and his lips curled into a mischievous smile. "What I'm _saying_ is…sometimes you need to take time for just the two of you. Do something romantic."

Brian remembered the feel of Justin's mouth on his cock an hour before and thought that was romantic enough for him.

*****

He took James home after chatting with Jennifer, and immediately changed him into a [teal gown](http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk51/discothequey/Building%20BLocks/mm005-mini-mioche-cozy-bundler-teal.jpg) he thought was stupid and girly but that he also knew was so much more conducive to diaper changes that didn't take ten minutes and didn't involve baby feet stuck in leg holes.

After getting changed into something more comfortable himself, Brian took the baby downstairs and fed him a bottle, while he caught the tail end of _East of Eden_ on TCM and drank lemon-lime Perrier. He always kind of liked time spent alone with James--more than he thought he would. He talked to him, sometimes, and told him stuff, and it was nice because the baby couldn't tell anyone else, and he couldn't make annoying comments; frankly, he couldn't even understand the words Brian spoke. He just looked at him and drank his bottle or sucked his pacifier and listened.

After the movie, Brian spread a thick blanket on the living room rug and let James stretch out on it. He touched his tiny, socked feet and smiled when he started to kick in a bicycling motion.

"When you're older," Brian mused, stretching out on his side and propping his head up on his arm, "we're going to take you all over the world. Italy. France. Spain. Greece. Australia. Fucking…Alaska." He rolled onto his back. "So you can see all kinds of shit. And we'll buy you whatever you want."

James made a little noise, like a dreaming puppy, and Brian huffed a laugh. He rolled his head to the side and watched the baby bring his fist to his mouth and start to suck on it.

"Are you gonna be a thumb-sucker?" He asked, taking hold of Jamie's other hand and holding it gently. "It'll screw up your teeth and you'll have to have braces." He rubbed his thumb across the top of the baby's soft, skinny little wrist. "But you don't have teeth yet, so…I guess it's okay."

*****

Justin arrived home at six-thirty with take-out Mexican food and a case of beer. 

After putting everything away and kicking off his shoes in the foyer, he made his way in quiet, socked feet into the living room, where he heard Brian playing with James.

Standing by the couch, several feet away from the others, Justin watched Brian pretend his index finger was a helicopter flying down and landing with a gentle tickle on Jamie's stomach or on his nose. The baby kicked his legs and waved his tiny arms in response. 

Brian smiled affectionately, leaned in close, and kissed his head, right at his soft-spot where it always smelled so good. And he thought he was a terrible father. Please.

Justin cleared his throat, causing Brian to jump, caught. He bit his lip to stifle a smile when he saw Brian's cheeks turning pink.

"Fuck," Brian said, pushing up into a seated position. "How fucking long have you been there?"

Justin let himself grin as he walked over and dropped down on the blanket. "You're so sexy, you know that?" He replied, placing a hand on the back of Brian's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. "Oh my _God_."

Brian pulled back and jabbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "Hi."

"Hi." Justin kissed him again, before leaning down to press a kiss to his son's cheek. "How's it going, Jamie-James?" He whispered. "Has Dadda been extremely adorable with you this whole time?"

"I'm _not_ adorable. Christ."

James made his little puppy noise again, and Justin grinned. "Is that a yes? He's a ball of goo when adults aren't around?"

Brian snorted and slapped Justin's ass. "We've been talking about machine guns and sports cars."

"Of course." Justin sat up and took Brian's hands in his, pulling him in close and playfully biting at his shoulder through his T-shirt. "Mom said he was fussy?"

"He was probably just being a drama queen."

"He gets it honest." Justin looked pointedly at Brian and smiled. "But it's okay. As long as he takes after me, too, things'll even out."

Brian fake-laughed and pushed himself to his feet. When Justin outstretched a hand for help getting up, he rolled his eyes and walked away with a smirk.

*****

While James napped in his cradle, Brian and Justin ate chips, queso, and pollo loco at the kitchen counter with [Thelonious Monk](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMmeNsmQaFw) playing in the background and four beers between them. 

"Your mom asked me about our sex life," Brian said with his mouth full, crunching down on a tortilla chip.

"She _what_?"

"She wanted to know how often we fucked."

"Are you fucking serious?"

Brian shrugged a shoulder, trying to seem nonchalant, and snatched another chip from the takeout box. "We ended up talking about positions and shit."

Justin dropped his fork. "If you're not lying, I'll kill myself."

"Mm." Brian scooped up an unhealthy amount of queso and took a bite. "Maybe she just asked about our relationship or something. I don't remember."

Justin picked up his fork again and made a face. "Eew. Why?"

"Your mommy was concerned her wittle boy wasn't spending enough time with his…whatever. I should've told her about the blowjob you gave me today."

"So you're still my 'whatever?'" Justin asked through a smirk and a bite of chicken.

Brian nodded and took a sip of beer. He burped. "Yeah."

"Classy."

*****

When James woke up that evening, Justin was uploading recent pictures of him to Facebook, and Brian was out on the porch, smoking.

It started with a small, staccato cry--the kind he usually let out when he wanted to be held. But by the time Justin had published the photo album, called "Recent Stuff" because he was in a hurry, it was a full-blown scream.

"Okay, okay," Justin said in a soothing voice, taking his son from the cradle and holding him to his chest. "Shh, shh, I've got you. I'm here."

Jamie calmed a little, but he didn't look happy. His face was red and his bottom lip shook, and he scrunched up his nose and moved his arms around like he was about to wail at any moment.

"Do you have a tummy ache?" Justin asked him, gently rocking him as he walked around the living room and rubbing his stomach with one hand. "You okay?"

He broke into another scream a few minutes after Brian came back inside, as he was grabbing a beer from the fridge and rooting around for something sugary to sneak.

"What the hell?" Brian asked Justin, who was humming Simon and Garfunkel's "Mrs. Robinson" with a helpless expression on his face. "Is he hungry?"

Justin shrugged and handed the baby to Brian, who set his beer and stack of Oreos on the counter. "He ate not too long ago, right?"

"I don't know. Make him another bottle."

The baby screamed in Brian's arms.

"J _aaaaa_ mie," Brian sang, moving him to the burping position on his shoulder and rubbing up and down his back. "Shh, shh, shh."

Amidst the chaos, the phone rang, and Brian walked over to grab it. He handed the baby back to Justin, who had the bottle ready, and answered. "Yeah?"

"Brian?"

"What?" Brian plugged up one of his ears with his middle finger in order to hear. " _What_?"

"Brian, it's Claire."

"Are you _fucking_ kidding me?" He asked to no one in particular, pulling back the phone to read the caller ID. _Cell Phone, PA: 724-555-2455_. He walked out of the kitchen, into the foyer, and sat down on the third step on the staircase. "What do you want?"

"What's that _sound_?"

"Crying baby. I'm sure you're familiar with it."

"Well, _God_ , do you need to--"

"Tell me what you want, Claire." Brian reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He knew he shouldn't smoke around the baby, but his fingers found their way inside, anyway, plucking a cigarette free.

"You have to come to Thanksgiving dinner at Mom's."

Brian snorted and murmured around his unlit cigarette, "Like that's fucking happening."

"She says she has something important to tell us."

"Does it have to do with our souls?" He made a grab for his lighter but in the end, only played with it. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and tucked it behind his ear. "Did you tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

"You know what."

The phone crackled as Claire let out a deep breath. "I mentioned something about it."

"Why the fuck do you do this shit?" Brian grumbled, reaching up to grab hold of the stair rail. He leaned against it. "It's none of her _fucking_ business. She probably wants me to come to Thanksgiving so she can whine about how fucking pitiful she is and how I never tell her anything and how I'm going to Hell because I have kids with," air quotes, " _abominations_."

"Brian, not everything is about _you_ , you selfish asshole."

"Oh, _I'm_ the selfish one? Okay." He bumped his head against the railing. "I'm _soooo_ fucking selfish."

"Will you just shut up? You're coming to Thanksgiving."

"I'm _not_ coming to Thanksgiving."

" _Brian_ \--"

"Bye, Claire." He disconnected the call and threw the phone on the floor, causing the back to dislodge and release the battery.

Justin came out of the kitchen half-feeding James, who was locked in a cycle of taking a few sucks off his bottle, then crying around the nipple, sucking for a few seconds, then crying. "What the fuck was that about?"

Brian rolled his eyes and pushed off the stairs, onto his feet. "Nothing. Family shit."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Brian shook his head and walked over to the front door. "I'm going out to smoke."

*****

James cried all night between scattered half-hours of fitful sleep. By four, neither Brian nor Justin had slept at all, and the baby was a permanent fixture in their bed. Several times, Justin or Brian walked blearily in the dark to the nursery for a bottle which would remain uneaten because James was too busy crying to latch on and drink.

"He hasn't peed in hours," Justin said, grabbing his laptop off a chair in the bedroom and bringing it back to the bed. "Fuck. What if it's his kidneys?" He did a Google search for various baby health websites, the glow of the screen lighting up the room and the image of Brian, who sat at the foot of the bed, rocking Jamie in his arms.

The more he searched, the more worried he became. He slammed his laptop closed and tossed it onto the bed. " _Brian_."

"I don't know what to do. Call the fucking hospital or something." Brian placed the back of his hand on the baby's forehead. "Feel him."

"Does he have a fever?" Justin turned the lamp on and scrambled over to them. Jamie did feel a little warm. "I'm gonna call. Let me see him."

Brian shook his head. "Just call. I'll go take his temperature." He climbed off the bed and walked the baby down the hall, to the nursery. Justin followed with his iPhone.

Brian flipped the light switch, turning on the first full-wattage overhead light of the night, and moved to place James on the changing table.

As Brian dug around for the thermometer, Justin dialed the hospital with one hand and pushed up Jamie's gown with the other, exposing his bare legs and stomach. "Mother _fuck_!" He yelled, disconnecting the phone and looking over his son's body.

All over the skin of his legs were tiny, flat red dots. Upon further examination, they were on his chest and hands, too.

"What the _fuck_ is this?"

Brian stood, and after taking one look, shook his head. "Let's go. We're going to the emergency room."


End file.
